


Entwined

by superdanganisland



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 09:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12339888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superdanganisland/pseuds/superdanganisland
Summary: Two times she held him, and one time he held her.





	Entwined

**Author's Note:**

> Got the kuzupeko bug again. Oops
> 
> Completely forgot about this sitting half-finished in my google drive since apparently May. Got the idea from a random anon sent months ago to @thewildwilds, so thanks for being dat kuzupeko inspo. We’re doing the slow healing thing in here. I also hope you are all ready for supreme maximum-tier fluff, because I was.
> 
> Also - this fic has a drastically different tone than almost all of my previous works. It’s been a while! :O

The last time she’d held him like this, he could barely remember.

It wasn’t by choice. He could barely make anything out through the sting of blood in his eyes and the scent of iron that filled his nostrils. He remembered only how tightly she held him, save for the gentle fingers laced through his hair, before her body went limp against him and the clash of steel and swords blocked out every sound but his tired heartbeat. A soft hand propped him into her body, into the crook of her shoulder, to make sure he didn’t see it.

 

* * *

 

The next time, he didn’t see it coming.

Kuzuryuu swore when it happened, he’d stay strong in front of the others and not make a goddamn idiot of himself in front of everyone and _especially_ her, but it was stupid of him to even try and hold it back. It was stupid _and_ it was pissing him off, because through the hazy sheen of the wetness in his eyes and his own head spinning, he could just barely see the reflection of a pair of red eyes— _her_ eyes—staring up at him. She was awake, she was alive, and he was a shaking mess who was about to pass out.

She always was stronger than he was. He didn’t need his tears falling on her cheek to tell him that.

A frenzy of movement and buzzing voices became a muddied blur behind him as her body lurched forward in the pod, a mess of cords and equipment falling out of her way. She was getting up. That was good. Was it…? He didn’t know why he expected her case to be any different than the others.

He moved to catch her, hooking his arms under her shoulders as she collapsed instantly. The back of his leg banged against the chair nearest to him as her fingers dug into the loose fabric at his shirt, stiff but weak. If there was one thing he could assume, she must have been just as surprised as he was. With no strength in her body, she was left awkwardly mashed against his chest, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and words that didn’t make any sense.

Most of their former classmates huddled near the back of the room, reacting as if they’d just released a caged tiger. Some of the them—some now in the room—had woken up quite violently, to the point of where Hinata was sporting a couple of false teeth where one of them socked him in the jaw. It didn’t stop him from standing near the front every time, and it didn’t stop Kuzuryuu this time either.

Kuzuryuu only realized she was trying to speak when he felt the unsteady vibration of her chest against his arms. Her voice was so faint he was sure none of the others heard it. Tuning out the other noises that were trying to reach him, what he could make out wasn’t _young master_ , or _hello,_ any of the other things he’d prepared or hoped for, but _“Sorry… sorry…”_ heaved through gasping breaths against his shirt.

The first words he’d planned to say to her withered in his throat. Pekoyama being apologetic wasn’t unusual, but the way she sounded… it didn’t feel like she was apologizing for falling into him.

He felt sick. There was at least some form of solace found in the fact that she didn’t wake up coming for his life, but if she _remembered…_ that was worse. A flood of memories rushed forward all at once. Her limp arms around his chest brought a storm of blood and swords to the front of his mind. She was lying on top of him, an unwavering shield, broken, unbreathing, _dead, she’s dead, she’s..._

“O-Ohh, this isn’t good… Pekoyama should use this, for now…”

A new voice tore his mind away from the thought. He craned his neck up to find Tsumiki standing near the entrance, one of the people who’d waited until it was safe to come in. She stepped forward, bringing with a squeaky old wheelchair into the room, which he should have expected around this point. She’d done the same for all the others, even the ones who had to be restrained. To Kuzuryuu, it was strange that such a significant moment to him felt… routine, somehow, like they were just going through the motions.

Something flickered inside of him. He wasn’t sure what in particular triggered it, whether it was the fact that someone like Tsumiki had woken up first and had all this time to recover and heal already like nothing ever happened despite everything she’d been through and done, or the particular choice of the phrase _Pekoyama should_ mere seconds after she’d woken up, or how Pekoyama’s fingers tightened against his back when she noticed what they were bringing in for her, but a quick surge of anger lit up like a match inside of him. She was humiliated enough as it was, and his fuse was short. Somehow, Pekoyama reacted before he did.

 _“I don’t need that,”_ were the words she chose, quiet but audible, her face still pressed halfway into his chest. Of course, she did _need_ it—she just didn’t want it. He knew her well enough to know she’d never express it as such. She’d sooner collapse and die before she let herself become a burden to them.

Tsumiki paid no mind—it was obvious she just didn’t hear her. It was her duty to help them, whether they wanted it or not. Her duty.

_Duty._

Kuzuryuu’s mind paused on the word. It rattled around uncomfortably in his head, knocking off pieces he didn’t realize were coming loose.

Fuck that. _Fuck_ duty. Tsumiki took one step too close, and the fuse that had been lit inside of him set off like gunpowder.

“Are you deaf? She said she doesn’t need it! _FUCK OFF!!”_

Tsumiki jumped as if someone put a bullet in the ground at her feet. Kuzuryuu sucked in a breath, with every intent to unleash his frustration at everything and everyone in the room, but what came out was only a sort of pathetic, choking half-sob. His knees were failing him.

Hinata was the only one who didn’t shrink back, just as he didn’t for any of the others who woke up screaming or clawing or not reacting much at all. Kuzuryuu’s footing began to wobble, his legs buckling under their combined weight. Keeping Pekoyama upright was the only thing that mattered, and he couldn’t even fucking do that right. He shouted at Hinata, voice unsteady, shaking like he was coming loose at the seams.

“Stop… stop! It’s fine, I—” His voice cracked. He had no right feeling like this when she was so much worse. He had no right. Hinata’s voice cut through to him, calm and unyielding.

“Let me do this,” he said, and offered an outstretched arm.

The shaking stopped when his hands touched their shoulders.

 

* * *

 

The next time, she thought she was alone.

Pekoyama had always had a bit of a stubborn bug in her. She’d only regained partial mobility since she’d woken up, which was not quite enough to be satisfied with but enough to find ways to disappear. Tsumiki had already spoken to her on multiple occasions about it, but the constant cries of _Please, Miss Pekoyama, you need to rest,_ and _Miss Pekoyama, i-it isn’t good for you to be out of your bed at this time,_ repeated ad nauseum, fell mostly on deaf ears. Asking her to stay put proved to be an impossible task, but her stamina often stopped her when the nurse could not.

Kuzuryuu was lucky he found her before anyone else. She’d managed to drag herself halfway up a secluded staircase in the facility, too weak to go further and too weak to get back down. It brought him back to all the times he’d gotten stuck up the big tree in their yard, except this time he was the one looking up at her instead of the other way around, and it was eerily quiet without the familiar presence of the family’s dogs howling at them from below. Despite this, Pekoyama didn’t hear him approach, too focused on keeping herself stabilized with one arm on the railing and her weight precariously balanced on one of her knees. He’d have to be mindful not to startle her.

“Hey. Are you doing alright?” he said from the bottom of the stairs, voice barely above a whisper. Annoyingly, it still echoed in the empty corridor.

He heard her breath hitch. She threw a quick look under her shoulder, then jerked her head away, making a point to avoid his gaze. He watched her through a narrowed eye as she unsteadily straightened her posture, wrapping both of her hands tightly around the railing to keep herself upright.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to—well,” he stammered. “Er, what are you doing up there? You alright, I mean?”

She didn’t answer for a few seconds. Her chin dipped into a quick nod, even as the rest of her didn’t seem to agree. He knew she wasn’t being truthful, so he waited.

“It’s fine,” she said weakly.

“You don’t look fine. Do you want help?”

Her shoulders tightened. He noticed her hair wasn’t done up in her braids, instead falling messily behind her neck and around her ears. It meant she left in a hurry, as she didn’t have the dexterity yet to do them herself. It was something she’d let Sonia or one of the other girls help her with, since having her hair in her face like that drove her crazy otherwise. It was one of the things that helped her feel normal when she couldn’t do much else. Seeing her like this, after spending her entire life mastering strength and movement and grace and techniques, only to have it all ripped away at once—it caused a familiar nauseating sensation to creep up into the back of his throat. A lifetime of servitude, and this was her reward. He pushed the feeling back.

She remained silent. He couldn’t stand it, so he tried asking again. “It’s okay. Do you want me to help you?”

She didn’t answer, not even a nod, keeping her jaw tightly clenched and angled towards the floor. Kuzuryuu involuntarily brought a hand up to loosen his necktie around the lump that was forming underneath it. If he rephrased himself, maybe he’d get an answer—even if it wasn’t the one he was hoping for.

“Do you want me to... leave you alone?”

His voice tapered off, like he didn’t want it to be heard. He swallowed hard and took a step back, waiting a few moments with the hope she would say something, anything. Instead, her chest rose and fell silently from up above. For all the times he spent pushing her away, asking her to stop bothering him—this was long overdue. He shouldn’t have come here, should have pretended he didn’t see her.

He withered. When he turned to leave, he heard her speak.

“No.”

Her voice was dry and light, but just hearing it made something swell inside of him. The confidence returned to his shoulders. Determined to make things right, he swung back around, and squared up with the bottom of the staircase. Pekoyama tilted her head just slightly, watching him from the corner of her eye as he stepped forward and placed his hand on the railing where she could see it.

“Let me—” he stopped himself, rewording his sentence so it wouldn’t be a command. “—I want to do this for you. Is that okay?”

Another silence, this time less stifling than the last. But he watched as some of the tightness left her shoulders, and finally, she answered, “Yes.”

The stairs creaked under him as he made his way up to her, coming to a rest right where she stopped. She didn’t up look at him as he did so—not directly, anyway. Her face was pointed straight ahead at the wall, not toward him but not away. It was a start.

It occurred to him that he’d never done something quite like this, and wasn’t sure where to put his hands. She didn’t seem to know what to do either. She took in shallow breaths through her nose, like she was trying to hide how heavily she was breathing. He positioned himself adjacent to her on the step, first hovering his hands above her waist, then moving the arm closest to her under her shoulder. His left hand came to rest above her hip bone—she was softer than he expected. He hadn’t held her like this since she first woke up, when she was thin and bony and stiff to the touch, like—no, he wouldn’t think about that. This was different. She was warm.

However, the grip was all off. She didn’t make any sort of effort to grab onto him, like she didn’t trust his hold. Her fingers were still tightly wrapped around the railing, with most of her weight leaned away from him. Kuzuryuu had to practically lift her entire body to get her to move.

“C’mon, I gotcha. Lift your other leg up.”

She hesitated, but did as she was told. After repeating himself few more times, he noticed he was giving her orders instead of letting her do it on her own. It was something he’d been working on. He made himself shut up, and instead quietly nudged her along, one foot at a time, one after the other.

She paused after a few steps. He stopped with her, readjusting his grip. “Take it easy. You okay?”

“You—” The first syllable sounded like it belonged to the words _young master_ , but it stopped at the edge of her mouth. It was something she’d been working on too. “You must have better things to do. I can finish the rest.”

Kuzuryuu furrowed his brow. “Don’t say that.”

“Souda and Hinata wanted your help fixing the boardwalk. Souda said so this morning,” she said, keeping her eyes straight ahead. She spoke emotionlessly, as if just relaying a message she was sent to give him. “I saw him outside with his toolbox. He’s probably waiting for you.”

“No,” Kuzuryuu said, shaking his head. “Listen… they had this whole time to ask me to help them fix that damn thing, and they waited until now? Fuck ‘em. I got more important things to do.”

“Then…” she began, “you should take care of those things.”

“N-No, it’s not… well,” he fumbled his words. Biting his lip, he looked towards the wall, feeling the heat from his body rise up to his face.

“Hm?”

When he turned back, she’d cocked her head towards him, eyes frustratingly pointed at some odd spot under his shoulder. She was so close that he could make out the individual lashes that blinked lazily in his direction. One lock of silvery hair, through the tangled mess, had curled itself into a perfect corkscrew all on its own—it was fascinating, and he couldn’t stop staring at it.

She was waiting for him. He cast a glance over his shoulder, as if to make sure no one was watching, then lowered his voice into something familiar, something she’d only heard when they were alone. “There’s… there’s nothing more important to me than getting you up these stairs, right now, so I’m not going anywhere. Got it?”

Her chest expanded—not in a stilted manner, but in a more comfortable way. Kuzuryuu forced himself not to look away, fighting the urge to duck and hide. When she finally found the courage to look up at him, what she found wasn’t resentment, or frustration, or the stony look of his father, but the soft, kind-hearted expression of the childhood friend who refused to leave her side. He nodded as she made eye contact with him, and the corners of his lips curved upward into his cheek. She didn’t hold his gaze for very long, but when she turned away, the edges of her features cracked into what he recognized as her smile.

“...I see.”

Kuzuryuu shuffled his grip again, this time taking the hand off her hip so he could hold it out in front of her. There was a brief delay as the looked down at his upturned palm, seemingly calculating the mechanics of her next move. Then, she relinquished, with rose-colored cheeks, and placed her hand into his. She removed her other arm from the railing, wrapping it around his shoulder for support. When she leaned in—when he could feel her chest against him—a wave of heat rushed through his body like none other.

“It’s okay to ask for help, you know,” he said, unable to hide his reddened cheeks. “That’s what I’m here for. That’s what we’re here for.”

It was no easy task, as her strength was sapped and she was still bigger than he was, but he was determined to make it work.  He helped her up, one leg at a time, letting her control the pace. This time, they worked in sync with instead of pushing or pulling against one another. Being side-by-side with her, rather than one in front or behind one another, felt right. On this island, they were equals. He wished everything else didn’t need to happen for it to become a reality.

When they reached the top, she didn’t let go right away, still leaning nearly her full weight onto him. Kuzuryuu was running out of energy, too, so he moved against the wall where he could prop them both against it. Once she seemed secure in her footing, she loosened her grip and allowed herself to lean back.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he said, but retracted the statement when he noticed her breathing heavily through parted lips. She was no longer trying to cover up her exhaustion. “Er… that was good, I mean. You must be feeling a little better, huh?”

“It’s… manageable,” she answered. That wasn’t ideal, but manageable was better than no answer at all.

“So...” he said curiously, peering down at the barren hallway. “Why did you want to come up here, anyway?”

She paused, an unsteadiness to her voice. “I’m… not really sure, anymore.”

That was what she told him, but she probably did know why. It was much quieter here than in the hospital, where the constant in-and-out foot traffic was something she’d already expressed displeasure with. By the way she looked around, he guessed she’d never been up here before, and was just trying to find a place where she could get away for a while. Nobody would ever suspect her to get up here on her own, and she almost didn’t.

“Well, you should take it easy, for now. Maybe we can find a spot to relax up here,” he said, noticing her panting not slowing down much. “Do you want me to help you still?”

She gave him a small nod. “I think so.”

He checked to make sure she was steady first, then poked around to see what he could find. The second floor had a few private rooms and offices; plain, beige, and sparsely furnished, and almost untouched as there was no other reason to come up here besides boredom or privacy. Kuzuryuu himself had only been up here once, and it’d been when he was exploring with Souda to see if they could uncover anything useful. The third room he checked had a couch, and that’d be enough.

“Here. I think I found something,” he said, and walked back to where he’d left her, hunched against the wall. She lifted her eyes up and straightened herself out for him. Wordlessly, he positioned himself adjacent to her, and held out his hand again. “Ready?”

She didn’t hesitate when she grabbed him this time, putting one arm around his back and her other into his outstretched hand. They fell right back into their natural rhythm, one foot at a time, one after the other. It felt practiced now, even if it was much easier when they were walking down a flat hallway rather than trying to work their way up a staircase.

It didn’t take too long to get to the room he settled on, and he let Pekoyama scope it out. There was the couch, a desk, and small shelf full of dusty books, but not much else besides the window and the overhead fan, which he flicked on when they entered. The cracked plastic shades let in some dappled light, but otherwise it was fine. There was no danger here.

“Stupid-ass building. What kinda setup is this?” Kuzuryuu mumbled. “Will this be alright?”

She glanced idly towards the couch, then back to him. He could tell there was still something bothering her. Her brow pinched together, and her lips were drawn into a lopsided grimace, as if she was second-guessing herself. He almost asked when she answered it before he could.

“You won’t tell them where I am, will you?”

“I wouldn’t, I promise,” he said, shaking his head. So that’s what she was worried about. “But they might come looking for you after a while if you’re gone too long. I can make sure they don’t come up here.”

Her face seemed to relax somewhat. That was good. She leaned forward to continue, and he led her inside.

Carefully, he laid her down, one hand supporting the base of her spine and the other at the back of her neck. There was strength in her body, if only very little of it. She sunk into the couch, slow to release her hold. When she finally let go, her arms tucked inward, coming to rest her chin. She exhaled, finally able to free the worn out breath within her.

Kuzuryuu inspected her position from above. There was something awkward about the way she was lying there, like something was missing. Finally, it clicked.

“Is this okay? Do you want a blanket or something?”

“A sheet would be fine.”

He noticed it as soon as the words left her mouth—she wanted something. That was new. It wasn’t much, but that one little comment that would have flown over the head of anyone else made his heart surge. He’d do anything for her, build her a new room on the first floor if he had to, but this would have to do for now. “Then hold on. I’ll be back.”

He came back a few minutes later with a light sheet in hand, as anything heavier would’ve been too warm in the upstairs room. The overhead fan was the only thing keeping the air from becoming stuffy, providing a layer of white noise in the background for them. Pekoyama closed her eyes when Kuzuryuu laid it over her, letting it slowly drape across her body. When it came to a rest, she pointed her irises up at him, ruby red and beautiful.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, tucking the edge of the blanket under her chin. For the first time since he found her, she looked at peace. One would never guess by seeing her now that she was once a deadly hitwoman, a pawn of the Kuzuryuu clan.

“No problem,” he said, the blush creeping past his ears. He’d done his job, but something still nagged at him. He realized if she wanted to leave, she probably wouldn’t be able to get back downstairs without him, and she had no way to contact him when she was ready. He looked back towards the door, then back at her. “Do you want me to stay for a while? For when you want to come back?”

Uncertainty returned to her brow. “...You don’t have any other plans?”

“No, not today,” he said assuredly. “I promise.”

“Then,” she said, and tucked the blanket further into her chin. “That is fine, if you want.”

There was nobody around, and almost no danger of anyone coming upstairs, but the door was wide open and he knew she’d never relax with it like that. He turned and tapped it just slightly shut with his fingers, just enough to form a barrier between them and the hallway. The desk would be a good spot to sit and hang out while she rested, but then, when he looked at her—that perfect corkscrew of hair he’d noticed from before was sticking out over the blanket, where her neck met her shoulder. He couldn’t help but stare.

He stepped toward her again for a better view, leaning over the edge of the couch. She breathed softly, unflinching from his presence. The wisp of silver hair moved in rhythm with her chest, up and down. Her eyes were wide and alert now, watching, waiting, wondering what he was doing. He was afraid the loud thumping in his chest would give him away. His mind stalled as he hovered above her shoulder, neck muscles straining, like he was pulling himself in two directions. He found himself inches from her skin, lips trembling, face burning. She closed her eyes.

He couldn’t do it.

He backed off. But instead of leaving her, he knelt at the base of the couch, next to her head. She opened her eyes as his fingers brushed her temple, taking a large chunk of messy hair into his hand—not the corkscrew, as that one was perfect on its own. She didn’t have to ask what he was doing. She recognized this.

He split the piece into three parts, and began to do her braid.


End file.
